


Knocking doors down.

by DeadDrabble (MisakillDatMonkey)



Series: Two foxes, a given. [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Banter, Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-21 14:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30023436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisakillDatMonkey/pseuds/DeadDrabble
Summary: Years to lock feelings away. Osamu almost did a too good job at being in denial. At closing some doors.Lucky for him, he's an open book for some.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Two foxes, a given. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078814
Comments: 26
Kudos: 69
Collections: SunaOsa





	1. locked away

Osamu hasn't really heard about Suna in a few months. Not since he joined EJP and came back to Hyogo over a weekend to celebrate with the twins. They're friends. The closest friends. But Osamu is busy and bad at keeping up and he's happy to just go to sleep watching Suna's stories or enjoying a meme he sent. They're friends, the closest and it's okay at times not to be able to catch up or talk. It's not like it means Osamu never thinks about him in the meantime. 

This fine morning, however, he finds Suna on the cover of a fashion magazine, in a see-through shirt, with sharp red eyeliner wings and suddenly Osamu can't remember his own name. Forgetting Suna after not talking for weeks would already have been crazy… but Osamu finds himself forgetting his own name and realizes something's not right. 

He calls Atsumu in the following minutes, asking if he's _seen_ "that _shit"._ Atsumu, of course, has strictly no idea what Osamu is going on about so Osamu gets frustrated and pissy. Atsumu is confused and lets Osamu know that. 

Why is his twin acting like more of a dumbass than he usually is? He asks without detour. Osamu hangs up, unable to answer that rude but legit question, and instead sends a picture of the cover to Atsumu with a series of exclamation and interrogation marks.

Atsumu delicate answer comes through with a series of crying and laughing emojis. Unhelpful. Osamu considers blocking the useless idiot on the spot but then...

Atsumu would be right. Osamu is overly pissed over… nothing that justifies this reaction. He's acting out of character. 

His eyes flick to the cover again where Suna is drop dead gorgeous, on display—that's right. Osamu is overly pissed off over nothing! 

Another _ping,_ then more, from his phone signal new messages from Atsumu.

**From 'Tsumu to me:**

> _So he's pretty when he doesn't slouch_
> 
> _that fucker_
> 
> _imma roast his ass next time I play him!_
> 
> _Send the pic to Gin and Michinari_
> 
> _send it to Aran!!!!_
> 
> _MAKEUP REALLY ok he's done it!_
> 
> _He can't try and look better than me I'll sue his ass_
> 
> _Kita-san! Send it to him!! OMG SEND IT TO MA SHE'S GONNA HALLUCINATE_

Osamu doesn't send the picture to anyone. Instead he thinks about his brother's words. The ones that make sense. 

_He's pretty when he doesn't slouch._

_Suna has always been pretty,_ Osamy automatically thought when he read that first message and he cannot make peace with it. He barely read the rest of his brother's rant.

Suna has always been pretty.

And Osamu has never been that distraught over such a simple fact.

Was Suna always _that_ pretty? Osamu wonders as he snatches the magazine and storms off the aisle to pay for it.

Once, twice, and again. Soon enough, Osamu finds himself spending the whole morning wondering if and when Suna became gorgeous like that. If and when it bothered Osamu before.

If and when Osamu should open the door to the thousand questions that have been knocking at the edge of his mind and sanity for the past hours. He shut them down so far.

And maybe that door is better shut.

Osamu is good when it comes to locking doors.

He grew up with a loud shadow and knows the expensive price of privacy. Osamu is a maestro of shutting doors in people's face, locking them and throwing the key away.

For intimacy, for protection... Right now, Osamu has a feeling it's the right thing to do.

He doesn't even know if he's ready or not, his mind doesn't wander that far.

Threat. Door locked. Simple process.

He goes on with his day. With his week even, and tries not to acknowledge the fact that perceiving Suna has a threat makes him feel poorly.

It can't go on longer than a week, though. And just when he finds himself mentally walking to that door again and itching to open it… Friday happens. 

Osamu feels like he just fell down a flight of stairs, when the evening comes; when Atsumu kicks the physical door to his own restaurant down.

Atsumu is good at kicking them open. Loudly. He's a bull.

And he brought his herd along with him tonight.

Osamu drops the onigiri he was shaping on the counter and tries not to drop his jaw the same way as his old Inarizaki teammates flood in the facility like they own the place.

Gin, Akagi, Riseki, Aran, Omimi, and Kita are all there. So is Suna.

"Family reunion!" Atsumu shouts.

"Yer my only relative here and I regret this everyday of my life," Osamu barks back. "Care to keep me posted next time, dickhead? What if the restaurant was full tonight?"

Atsumu seems all pleased with himself.

"I made a reservation, I'll have ya know. Requested for it to be a surprise because I'm the best big brother. Ask yer lovely employee."

Osamu doesn't need to check. He believes it and wishes he could feel warm and happy about it but his throat burns. He swallows back his frustrated groan because his brother isn't that much of a nuisance. The others even less, on the contrary they are indeed a good surprise and Atsumu seems to have planned this carefully, making sure not to be a bother to his brother's business. So Osamu shouldn't feel that irked. It wouldn't even be the first time they pop up unannounced. Rarely that many at the same time, but it's not unusual.

Osamu is overly pissed off for nothing, once again. That's why he decides to swallow it back quickly, offering a warm smile to the new crowd.

"Anyway, welcome to Onigiri Miya, dear family I wish I could trade with _that one_ ," Osamu says as he goes around the counter, wiping his hands on a clean cloth.

Everyone is smiling back. Or so he assumes because his eyes hop from a face to another without _ever_ flicking toward Suna.

As for the others, they all seem happy to see him, to be there. Osamu really is an idiot. 

The weight on his stomach is terrifying and he's horrified to realize it gets heavier with each step he takes toward them. 

"Beer for everyone?" Osamu asks as the group settles at their usual table.

But it's clear soon enough that said table isn't big enough. Osamu really doesn't receive that large group often.

His brain catches up on that at the same time something bumps him in the hip. Or more like someone. 

Osamu startles and looks sideway to see his oldest friend smile at him after a swing of the hips to make his presence known.

Osamu is done falling off the flight of stairs. He just crashed and face-planted monumentally. In a shut door.

Suna has always been _that_ pretty, that, at least settles it. 

"We're going to need another table, chef," Suna says before lowering his voice and adding: "It's good to see you!"

And he says that so simply. So genuinely. With his quiet voice and his serene smile. As if everything was normal.

Normal to greet a friend you haven't seen in a long time. Normal to be friendly at all.

For the second time in a week, Osamu wonders what's wrong with him. Of course, it's a normal thing to do.

But when he answers "Good to see ya too! That's a surprise," he can't help but pay serious attention to the fact that Suna isn't wearing any beautiful red makeup. Which isn't all that normal of a thought to have. 

"Sure?"

"What d'ya mean?!" Osamu blurts out too fast, shocked to realize he was staring at the delicate brow Suna arched up along with his one-word question.

Suna starts chuckling and Osamu can't see either his brow or makeup, less eyes anymore because Suna bends forward and his bangs hide his face. They're shorter than when they were teenagers but still rob Osamu of the sight.

"You didn't seem that pleased to see us. Did we really come at a bad time?" Suna asks when he's done laughing.

"No! Oh god, no. I was just bein' a dick to him. You know how it works," Osamu rushes to answer, both because it's partly true and because it really dawns on him how awkward he's being around Suna and how ridiculous that is.

"Okay, yeah. I know you're two idiots. Would you believe I missed it? I don't even want to believe it myself," Suna smiles.

Osamu's stomach lands a perfect back flip.

He is gorgeous.

"Let's go grab that table, ya rude ass," Osamu says, turning on his heel fast.

The others are busy talking too loudly to pay attention when Suna follows him not too far away.

"I should apologize," Suna tells Osamu the moment their hands settle on the edge of a table Osamu picked to busy himself instead of listening to his crazy heartbeat.

"For being rude? Never heard ya apologize for that before," Osamu says, looking away purposely.

Suna chuckles again and Osamu dies to look up.

Another door just opened. It's dangerous. Too dangerous. Atsumu didn't help him when he chose to kick this one down. 

Or was it Atsumu? No… Osamu is alone on this one. He opened another door locked long before and is left facing Rin's stupid chuckling sound.

Chuckles are ridiculous.

Osamu never paid attention to Suna's laugh, and he's only doing it now because he's confused.

"Nah. You know me too, I'd never do that," Suna jokes before leaning over the table.

Osamu has no choice but to look at him.

"We're here because of me. Kind of," Suna then explains in a hushed voice, as if telling him a secret. "Atsumu reunited us on behalf of my model debuts."

Osamu is grateful for his noisy friends for once, because Suna can't hear him when he swallows the hard lump in his throat. Suna is smiling like a fox.

"I mean, I'm pretty sure it's only because he's jealous I got a modeling contract before him. Should have heard him on the phone. _'Samu and I were called the idols in high school, Sunarin, but I guess it can't be helped with yer pretty eyes,"_ Suna mimics Atsumu's accent poorly.

Osamu has never heard something so endearing. A pang in his chest tells him it might be nostalgia but when he looks back at his friend, Osamu knows it's not just about some fond memories.

But it's really when his treacherous mouth opens against his will that Osamu _knows_ it's about everything else. About everything that's been hidden behind locked doors for so long.

"You do have pretty eyes, Rin."

The heat wave that crashes over him after his spontaneous compliment is so dizzying, Osamu sees Suna's blooming smile as if from another pair of eyes.

He's shell-shocked by his own words. Even more so because he shouldn't be, it should all be normal. He shouldn't get flustered from complimenting a friend.

He shouldn't feel dizzy when looking at Suna's eyes, and he shouldn't spiral down for a week over how gorgeous he's always thought Suna is.

"Thanks, Osamu," Suna finally says, lifting the table suddenly.

Osamu is dragged back to reality abruptly.

He goes with the motion, lifting his end of the table to follow Suna who navigates back to the crowd easily.

"You have pretty eyes, too, though. No need to make that face," Suna suddenly says as he drops the table with a sly grin.

Osamu does a double take at that, letting go of the table a little too abruptly. It bangs on the floor and people stare at him.

Suna rolls his eyes. 

"That's what I had to tell Atsumu to make him stop sulking. Come on, guys! You should be happy for me," he teases.

There's no malice in his words, he's clearly joking. Still, Osamu gets defensive on the spot.

"I _am_ happy for ya, Rin!"

"Good," Suna says with a satisfied grin.

"Yes, congratulations, Suna," Akagi tells him, having overheard the conversation.

Others jump in but Osamu and Suna keep looking at each other until Osamu can't take it any longer.

"See? Everyone's happy! And everyone gets a drink!"

"Yeah that's right, 'Samu! To Sunarin's pretty eyes," Atsumu shouts. 

Osamu feels like a cornered animal, dying a little inside and forced to not let it transpire. He gives his brother what he hopes is a flat stare and says: "'Tsumu's paying."

"Yeah that's r—HOLD THE FUCK UP 'SAMU!"

Their friends burst into laughter and Osamu takes the occasion to flee toward the kitchen, Atsumu on his tail.

"Don't even think about protestin', scrub. Ya invited them," Osamu says the moment they get mostly alone.

Mostly because there's still Osamu's cook.

"Shaddap ya ungrateful jerk."

"Ungrateful? What am I s'posed to be grateful for?" Osamu gasps. "The restaurant is doing great without yer patronage, you ass!"

"I didn't mean that, ya dense fuck," Atsumu bites immediately.

The cook excuses herself at that, explaining she'll take orders from the newcomers. Osamu barely finds it in him to give her a grateful smile and knows he's spiraling again. 

"Wow, okay. Truce," Osamu offers with a trembling sigh.

Atsumu softens immediately. They're twelve again.

"Ya, sorry. Truce. Didn't mean the _fuck,_ but damn yer dense."

"We just called a truce, 'Tsumu for heaven's sake."

"WHAT! It's not like I'm insultin' ya. It's facts! Ya should be grateful and definitely should open _yer pretty eyes_."

Osamu thought he'd have time to brace himself before falling down another flight of stairs, but that's a luxury he's denied.

"I don't know what yer talkin' about," Osamu defends himself fiercely, digging in the fridge to retrieve bottles of his best beer.

"Yeah, no shit! You've been lookin' away for years, I'm not surprised! Still, no more of this shit! Not after this week. Not after that—what even was that shit back there, 'Samu? Ya might have fooled everyone including yourself for that long but I'm tellin' ya, you. aren't. slick."

It shouldn't be a surprise for Osamu to over-react now and grab Atsumu by the collar and tell him to shut up, truce or not. Not after this week-long rollercoaster. But it's precisely because it's Atsumu and he kicked the final and right door down that Osamu doesn't go ballistic this time.

Instead he slumps on the floor in front of the fridge, covering his head with his arms as if to shield himself from an invisible threat or disappear. 

The doors are open and he's terribly exposed.

"What's happenin' to me? 'Tsumu, what the fucking _fuck_ is fucking happenin' it's utterly fuc—"

"Okay, wow, okay calm down, 'Samu," Atsumu is immediately by his side, speaking low to coax Osamu into doing the same.

Because maybe he didn't overreact but he's still heated about it.

There's a light pat on his shoulder and Osamu tries to breathe in and out slowly but he feels like he's drowning. Overwhelmed. As if instead of doors, he had opened gates and too much was flooding all at once over him.

"Calm down, 'Samu, t's'okay. Nothin' happenin' more than what's literally been going on for years. Don't worry. Yer just gettin' there, that's all. It's great, actually. Cheers mate! Yer _finally_ getting there and god knows we've been waiting."

The long gulps of air finally start working, soothing Osamu along with his twin's words.

It takes some time but it slowly washes over him, a cold soothing wave after the overwhelming one.

Years.

So many doors locked. 

Osamu is too distraught to remember the first time he shut a door. It probably was along the time he started thinking Suna was pretty and decided this had to remain a fact, not a subjective constatation that could turn into an embarrassing thought. Or an obsession. Or...

He's been doomed for so long and he didn't even know, did he? Osamu lets go of a heavy painful sigh.

Atsumu takes that as the sign he can go on the offensive again.

"Seriously such a late bloomer c'm'on! How are you even my brother..."

Osamu barely has the strength to glare. Doesn't really want to. It's no surprise Atsumu has always known him better than Osamu knew himself.

Just like Osamu knows Atsumu, but Atsumu has that extra reading ability Osamu never developed. Of course Atsumu knew way before Osamu...

"Shut up. Took you a fucking year to confess to Sakusa," he groans.

"Sure but I knew the moment I saw him! Have ya heard me shut up since then?"

"Hell no."

"See? Cause I wasn't a coward."

"I'm not a coward! It's not like I could've done anything!"

What are they even talking about, Osamu realizes, a chill running down his spine.

"Get yer head outta yer ass sooner. Now that it's done I swear, though, you've got _no_ excuse not to do a thing, 'Samu."

"Do a thing?"

Osamu nearly chokes, looking at his brother with a bewildered expression. "Wait. No! Wait 'Tsumu I—"

"I told you we've been waitin' all too fucking long. Yer lucky."

Osamu's mind is reeling way too fast and crazy but it's the second time Atsumu repeats it and this time, he catches on the words he's spewing out. Their meaning. They don't make him feel better nor do they help him calm down. But...

"We?" he almost yelps, miserably.

"Damn right, _we,_ I'm tellin' ya—"

"Who else knows?"

"... Yer really luck—wait."

Atsumu shuts up to look at Osamu like he's grown a second head.

It lasts for ten painful, awful, terribly long seconds where Osamu doesn't even know where to hide any longer then Atsumu's expression morphs into one of pity. Osamu wishes he could be swallowed whole into the ground.

"'Samuuuu... Uuuugh," Atsumu groans like the dramatic king he is. "What d'ya mean _who else,_ ya dimwit... Oh my... It's _not_ the guys, by the way, hell if the team figured it out in high-school that's on you but I don't think they—"

"Atsumu, please," Osamu cuts him off, gripping the leg of his brother's pants to drag him down on the floor with him.

Atsumu throws his head and resigns himself, joining his brother. Osamu is lost. He must look like a little kid. 

Osamu wishes he could close back a few doors, maybe.

Atsumu takes his time settling next to Osamu and snatches a bottle of beer from the fridge, shamelessly opening it with a second one — a trick Osamu taught him.

"Who d'ya think, 'Samu?" Atsumu says as he hands his twin one of the bottles. "I didn't just pick it up cause ya were obvious to me. Ya think Sunarin didn't need someone to mop on when we both realized how fucking oblivious ya were? Geez. Didya know that guy can talk that much? 'f course ya do, he's your friend. Well when he pins over a dense idiot lemme tell ya, he rants more than me. I was shocked."

Osamu hears Atsumu's voice, he can see his lips move but... It's like nothing of what he's saying will connect. The buzzing in his ears and his dry throat take his whole attention. Or so Osamu thinks.

The words do slide over him. Their meaning slowly catches.

He doesn't even realize he's chugging half his beer down before he hears himself ask: 

"What the _hell_ are ya sayin'?"

"Look okay, shocking! Although just for ya, 'Samu, what I'm tryna say—"

"No. I heard all that. I'm... I want to know why now. Why are you tellin' me only now–Atsumu. That's not a sick—" Osamu shuts up before he can call it a joke.

Atsumu barely has the time to look offended before Osamu scratches that. They both know Atsumu is a jerk but he would _never_ do something remotely close to playing with his brother's feelings. Ever.

"Why only now, then, if ya claim it's been years?" Osamu asks again eventually.

Atsumu looks at him intently. Long and hard.

"He said it was up to ya."

"He—Rin said what? _Why!"_

The question comes out _loud_ and a vicious angry blush spreads immediately on Osamu's cheeks.

Atsumu isn't bothered, he just shrugs. He doesn't seem to know what to say.

"It's obvious he knew, if ya did. Damn if you two talked about it so fuckin' much, why didn't—"

"His choice 'Samu. He said it had to come from ya so to wait for—"

"For when you're ready, Osamu."

Osamu almost drops his beer from how brutally he jolts and ends up spraying the other half of its content on himself.

He doesn't even care, although he scrambles to his feet at Mach speed.

Suna is standing a few feet away, eyes locked on Osamu. Osamu is desperate. Scared. Too hot. He doesn't know what to say, to think.

Suna just shrugs slightly, lips half curled in a smile.

"Heard you yell at your brother, thought I should come and break the fight, like good old times," he says.

Atsumu gets to his feet too and Osamu is aware his twin slides on the floor as further from him as he can but his sole attention is on Suna.

"Rin, I—"

"It's okay, Osamu. It's like your brother said. Looks like he's not always lying. It's been years, you don't have to rush now."

Osamu can't even stammer any longer, he's at a loss for words. He's at a loss for _everything._

Suna is standing there, gorgeous and understanding while Osamu is drenched in cold beer and... Clueless.

Clueless.

He has been for so long.

"I'm gonna get a mop," Atsumu groans somewhere to Osamu's left before disappearing in the opposite direction of the closet that contains the cleaning supplies.

Something his twin knows well.

Behind Atsumu, the door of the kitchen closes. 

The door closes and Osamu is left alone there with Suna who let himself in after so many years...


	2. out in the open

Doors have always opened wide for Suna Rintarou. Growing up in a relatively wealthy family, being scouted by a school for his potential, being handed keys to a flat rented for him, being scouted, again, by a professional team… Suna didn’t have it _easy._ Because despite his phlegm and laziness, he’s worked hard to keep his grades up, to stay in the team, to get the attention of professionals, but doors sure have always opened wide for him as he went.

 _Almost_ all kinds of doors, that is. Suna knows a certain kind of door at least has been closed and locked for years. So much so that it always felt like walking straight into a wall. One sole type of door completely shut, on which Suna had nothing else to do than focus. About which Suna had all the time in the world to lament. 

He’d gladly deck Atsumu for giving away how much he ranted about it over the years, but Suna knows it’s not fair. Atsumu just said the truth and he did it because Suna agreed to it.

“You gotta talk to him. He’ll never be as ready as he is now. If ya don’t go for it, yer gonna regret it, Sunarin,” Atsumu said over the week less than a week ago.

“What do you know about it?”

“I know it’s been years and it’s gettin’ to ‘im. And I know I can’t guarantee you’ll end up with the confession we’ve been desperate to hear, but you might as well try and get it out of his dense mouth because he’s bottled it up too long and… it’s ‘Samu. He might get bitter about it. Then it’s not a confession yer getting, it’s—”

“I know him too,” Suna had said before taking a couple of minutes to silently contemplate his choices.

Suna never tried to force any closed door open. He’s patient. There’s a key to each door.

“Yeah? Well guess what! Yer the fuckin’ trigger, Sunarin. And whether you want to keep your little ass safe on the bench or not, it’s coming for ya. Again, trust me, you want to be there to guide ‘im through it because he’s not me. He’s gonna do a fantastic job at pretending it’s not real. Worse actually. If he doesn’t feel like it’s comin’ from ya, he’ll be _certain_ it isn’t.”

“But I told you it has to come from him—”

“I know, Sunarin, but for heaven’s sake! That’s what I’ve been tellin’ for the last twenty minutes. He’s ready! As ready as he’ll ever be. Ya need to give him a push. It’s been too long. Wanna bet on it and risk missing the chance?”

“What if we don’t end up with the confession we’ve been desperate to hear, like you said?” Suna remembers asking Atsumu back then.

He remembers the long, tired sigh.

“Rintarou. You’re a lazy bastard, not a coward.”

Atsumu was right, and that’s why Suna is here tonight.

He has to admit, though, that coward or not, he’s never really been in such an unnerving situation. Graduating, making it to his pro team… All of that was on a certain level of stressing, but Suna doesn’t think standing outside the kitchen waiting for the man he’s been in love with for years to realize his feelings and accept them could ever compare.

Suna knows passing this door means he might never return. He doesn’t hope that Osamu will stay oblivious for much longer, and he’s no coward, but he has literally no idea how to handle what’s to come.

It’s been so long that when he hears Osamu lose it on the other side, Suna can’t even believe his ears. He’s not going to start and be as much in denial as Osamu is, for sure, but he has a hard time grasping the fact that Atsumu was right and Osamu is getting there by himself.

Seeing how distraught he sounds, though, a weight settles over Suna’s stomach. He should barge in and stop Atsumu before Osamu can’t go back. He should stop him before Osamu can admit to anything, and everyone can keep playing dumb until it fades away.

But Suna is not a coward, and he might be lazy but he’s done waiting by himself. It’s too late, anyway. Suna understands there’s no going back even before pushing that door open.

He checks the empty corridor behind him and takes a deep breath in, an ear trained on the conversation inside.

"It's obvious he knew, if ya did,” Osamu is saying and Suna wants to scoff.

Suna has known for years, Osamu has no idea. He doesn’t, really and he’s struggling, so Suna places a hand on the panel of the door, ready to push it.

“Damn if you two talked about it so fuckin' much, why didn't—"

It barely makes a noise as it falls ajar and Suna sneaks in. He can’t see the twins at first, as they’re on the floor past an island in the middle of the room, but Atsumu’s voice guides him.

Good thing it does, because Suna’s feet are rooted in the floor. Except he can’t let him finish that sentence.

It has to be him, now that Suna is on the same side as them, as Osamu. His blood is frozen in his veins, yet his skin feels so hot Suna would gladly peel it off. He realizes he’s experiencing vertigo as he moves past the island.

"His choice 'Samu.” 

It can’t be Atsumu. Suna stops by the edge of the counter, a hand there to support himself. Atsumu gets to say it first:

“He said it had to come from ya so to wait for—"

Suna can’t believe he sounds that calm when he cuts him off:

"For when you're ready, Osamu."

Osamu makes a fool of himself right there and Suna wonders if there’s hope after that disaster. 

Atsumu can sit on his ego just fine. Osamu… not so easily. 

"Heard you yell at your brother, thought I should come and break the fight, like good old times," he decides to say, not mocking, but playful enough to not suffocate them all.

Suna, however, doesn’t know how he’s supposed to keep it light hearted when Osamu calls him by that name, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. 

Suna has no idea how things are supposed to play out. What is he supposed to say… Not to rush, he tells him, although now that they’re here, Suna wants nothing but to speed things up.

Atsumu disappears in a flash, at least. 

Osamu doesn’t move, until the door closes behind his brother without a sound. Nothing to make him jump out of his skin, nor snap out of it. Suna isn’t a coward but that is quite scary. That’s why despite what he precisely just said, Suna can’t help but be restless. Be reckless.

“Osamu,” he calls him, taking a step further.

He’s been close to Osamu for years and it was always easy despite the yearning.

Suna has been apart from Osamu for years, and it never felt as insurmountable as the gap between them now.

A gap Osamu deepens when he raises an index finger between them in a hurry. Suna stops in his tracks, heart missing a beat. Vertigo felt better than that.

“Give me—” Osamu can’t find the words and whether it’s time or space, Suna can’t do anything but grant him what he seeks. 

For too long seconds, they stare each other off. It’s a good thing Osamu stopped Suna because his throat is too dry to speak by now. He barely remembers the things he’d always dreamed of telling him, would that situation ever occur.

They don’t come, and if they did, Suna is sure they wouldn’t make sense anymore. He wasn’t prepared, never could have been.

He’s been pining for years. Years.

There never was going to be an ideal situation. Suna just went over and above it, peacefully. 

Suna makes peace with everything that happens to him. Fighting is pointless, troublesome. 

Always an agent of chaos, never the wrongdoer. 

There's a bit of bile at the back of Suna's throat as he suddenly faces the only outcome Atsumu and himself never anticipated. Osamu being disgusted. There's not _many_ ways to interpret his need for space and Suna thinks he should have waited for this one outside. Let Osamu calm down, think… but he had to be greedy at the last second. 

That's how, after years of waiting for this moment, Suna suddenly gets cold feet. He hears himself — in a voice that has _nothing_ to do with the usual one who told Atsumu he wasn't a coward — blurt a ridiculous:

"You know what? Time yeah. Actually, I'm just gonna—" 

Incidentally it's what gives Osamu the push he needs to spring into motion, startling Suna. 

Osamu knows his kitchen better than him and blocks the path between Suna and the exit door before Suna can even reach it. 

"Oh no, no, _no,_ dude. Where d'ya think yer even going?" Osamu says as he slams a hand on the nearest sideboard. 

Suna jolts, eyes following the motion to land on a knife block standing right there, within reach. 

"Out of your face?" Suna provides, hating the high pitched tune of his voice. 

"That's the _last_ place ya need to be," Osamu says, removing his hand to suddenly point at the fridge. "I don't know what the fuck is goin' on but if I need one person to sort it out and empty my beer stack, it's _you."_

People don't really know what's real _relief_ like until they experience that physical sensation of being too light to even stand on the ground. 

Suna's knees buckle, his heart clenching. Part of him wants to pounce forward and cage Osamu in a hug or headlock or maybe the kiss of his life. He doesn't even know but he _needs_ to be around him in a way or another. Yet he doesn't act on it, feeling already too lucky for that. 

"Where do I—" 

"The floor. It's too unsanitary to sit on the counters," Osamu provides, and Suna sees him blush furiously as he averts his gaze. 

"Yeah," Suna breathes out with a smile. 

"It's not because—" Osamu immediately tries to argue, fighting with sheer embarrassment. 

"It's _fine,_ Osamu. I'd have to be frankly dumb to get offended. Or to be your brother."

"That's the same," Osamu answers, _finally_ cracking a smile. 

"I'd usually agree but—" 

Suna moves over to the fridge and opens the door to get two new beers. 

"He gets a free pass today after how helpful he was."

Osamu's blush worsens all over again. 

"Blockhead's gonna remind me for the rest of my life," he mumbles as he turns around, grabbing the hem of his shirt. 

Suna tries not to vibrate from the implication of a _rest of his life_ Osamu being grateful for Atsumu helping them talk about their feelings. 

Then he tries not to stare when Osamu pulls his teeshirt over his head and the muscles of his back flex. He's no longer in athletic shape but having to keep up with his brother clearly prompted him to hit the gym enough. Or maybe it's carrying heavy supplies around all day—or _maybe_ Suna simply should stop _drooling._

He decides to busy himself opening the two beers while Osamu throws on a clean shirt, using napkins to wipe off the rest of beer on his skin. 

He's done too fast, already in Suna's space by the fridge. 

"D'ya smoke now?" Osamu asks with a frown as he points at the lighter Suna uses to uncap the second bottle. 

Suna looks back, arching an eyebrow. 

"I'm a professional athlete. And a model too, now," Suna says with a fake superior air and Osamu snorts. "No. That's Motoya's arson-only lighter."

"Motoya?" Osamu picks up, frowning even deeper. 

"I'm telling you I carry a weapon to burn shit down and that's what catches your attention?" Suna asks, ignoring his heart beating faster. 

Osamu's blush visibly decides to establish permanent residency on his handsome face. 

"I already know about yer criminal tendencies. I do _not_ know about yer new best friend yet."

He doesn't even try to hide the underlying jealousy and Suna drops on the floor, not trusting his knees any longer. The Olympic committee can never know he gets physically weak for his best friend and crush being childishly jealous or he'll never make it to the national team. 

"Motoya isn't my new best friend," he drawls, eyes on the floor and holding one of the beers up for Osamu to catch. 

Osamu doesn't. Instead he clears his throat and joins Suna, sitting with his back against the counter behind them. 

Only then does he reach for the bottle, his arms brushing with Suna's left leg. 

"Okay," he says, voice a little shaky. "But he could be." 

Suna finally steals a glance sideways. Osamu is sitting cross-legged next to him. So close there's really no way he's disgusted with Suna.

"I mean he could... if the occupation suddenly becomes vacant," Osamu goes on before sipping on his drink.

Suna's stomach drops a little. Maybe he _is_ disgusted and doesn't want to be his friend anymore? 

No… it makes no sense. But what Osamu said makes no sense either. 

Suna gulps a long sip of beer down before resting his head against the counter and trying to force a playful laugh out. 

"What do you mean?" he says, playing it light-hearted and teasing although he's rarely been this stressed out and attentive to the answer he could get. "Are you breaking up with me?“ he jokes. 

Osamu's attention seems to be on his loosely crossed ankles in front of him but Suna can feel the minute changes in his posture as he hunches over, tries to squirm away from his own embarrassment… he knows Osamu by heart.

"Quite the contrary," Osamu finally says, looking up so suddenly that he surprises even himself and he startles when their eyes meet and it's obvious he didn't expect for them to be that close. "Geez, I didn't hear that scrub calling me _dense_ a bazillion fuckin' times for ya to be oblivious, Rin." 

Suna is aware he’s snorting _after_ doing it. As if his own brain is catching up _faster_ on just how silly he is being.

Osamu does have a point there, and despite their awkwardness and ways of tiptoeing around the subject, the cat’s out the bag already. Suna might be pushing against an _open_ door here.

But he also doesn’t want to consider it done. Nothing is a given at this point. 

Time. So much time went by, so many years. Osamu might need so much more. Suna knows he does, no matter how lucky he’ll get today and how much Osamu could return his feelings. 

However, no matter the outcome, Suna knows he lost his cool here, and he’s in safe waters. He shouldn’t have a single reason to act any differently than he ever does — and effortlessly — and to not keep it light.

If anything, he knows that to get Osamu where he wants him to be, Suna needs to be in the ideal mindset he set for himself when he pushed the kitchen door open.

It’s the first time, in over twenty years, that he has to tell himself to act cool. His heart flutters at the thought. Osamu has always done all sorts of things to him, novelty ironically isn’t new in his case.

First time he blushed for a boy, first time he thought about kissing someone, first time he thought about brushing hands even…

First time he got jealous, concerned, interested, amused, frustrated, emotional... First time Suna fell in love, really.

Suna is used _not to be used_ to things when it comes to Osamu.

He drops his left hand next to him on the floor, tapping lightly with his index finger against the tile as he drinks some more beer. When he’s done, Suna slaps his hand on the ground and finally answers.

“Okay _bestie,_ so enlighten me if you’re not dumping me. I can’t have a ton of dudes filling in for the position. You and Atsumu are already too much to handle. What is it… Need to move departments?”

“You just called me bestie,” Osamu answers, visibly cringing.

“Yeah. I also asked you something,” Suna pushes forward.

“But you called me bestie,” Osamu stalls — Suna knows he is because the pink dots spread across his face are darkening again. 

“And I’ll do it again. So tell me, need to change positions?”

“I think I’m gonna ban twitter slang from this shop,” Osamu says, shifting on the ground toward Suna.

“And I think you’re full of shit if you spend enough time on twitter to know what _bestie_ means,” Suna says as he shifts too and now they’re kind of facing each other, gazes intent and chests heaving.

Not that they know how it happened, but Suna is too caught up in the moment.

“I’m just on that app to keep up with ya,” Osamu choses this moment to blurt out.

Suna’s breath catches.

“Oh,” he exhales slowly, fingers twitching on the tiles where his hand is resting. “So…”

“So I think I obviously need a promotion,” Osamu suddenly says, loud, slamming his hand on the ground as he leans forward.

It lands against Suna’s.

Osamu looks between them, where the tips of their fingers are intertwined on the floor, by mistake… Or was it?

“Shit,” he then breathes out, closing them tighter around the tip of Suna’s fingers.

Suna can’t help his shaky exhale. It sounds like half a chuckle, half a snort.

“Yeah, shit,” he repeats, out of breath. 

They’re standing really close now, and it doesn’t seem like a mistake. An impulse, sure, but they both seem to be where they want to. Suna knows he does.

Osamu’s decided gaze tells him he might too.

Suna also knows he’s dying to lean in a little more, reach forward, close that gap between them and materialize years of fantasies. 

“I have literally no idea how I landed there, though, Rin, I—” Osamu struggles with words, but never looks away. “I’m sorry, I’m not confused… I mean I am, but—” he moves his hand forward to really intertwine their fingers for good.

Not confused about the way he wants to touch Suna, at least. The relief gives him wings. Suna shifts to push himself forward until his bangs brush against Osamu’s nose. Osamu falls against him easily, forehead touching Suna’s as he looks down at their joined hands.

“This is okay, right?” Suna asks, his heart beating in his throat.

“Yeah,” Osamu chuckles awkwardly, nervously, grips his hand harder. “Fuck… Yeah, it’s okay. Totally okay. And... Can we drop the stupid metaphor for a sec? I need to be sure…”

Suna lets out a strangled laughter.

“Please, dude, by all means drop it, we’re _so_ cringy.”

Osamu laughs again, less jittery, more genuinely. Suna wonders just how much longer he’ll have to wait to find out what it’s like to kiss the mouth breathing hot air against his skin.

Osamu eventually stops chuckling, but still looks at theirs hands, until his eyes flick up, linger on Suna’s lips then meet his gaze.

“Not sure I want to be _more_ than yer bestie—”

“We said stop to the cringe. Osamu, literally I’d like to survive the embarrassment of tonight to mess with you and your brother another day,” Suna interrupts him, and doesn’t even know why.

Maybe he’s the one who’s stalling, because it feels so real, so close… Suna isn’t sure he is ready. He realizes he opened the door, but has yet to step over the threshold. It’ll never be the same after that.

“Then shaddup, Rin.”

“Okay,” he exhales with a lopsided smirk.

“I think I can be your best friend and something else too. Once I figure all this—whatever it is at this point. I can’t believe ya let me like this for years. But just—Rin, if ya let me sort out my feelings, maybe sometimes soon I can confess them to ya.”

To hell with acting cool, Suna feels the corners of his eyes prickle as they fill with tears and his vision gets blurry. It happens so fast he almost withdraws from the touch. He doesn’t because of the irrational fear it might disappear forever, and instead brings his free hand to his lips to hide the way they quiver.

“Told you, you don’t need to rush, I’ll be—”

“No more waitin’,” Osamu says and his hand is on Suna’s, prying it off his mouth slowly, tentatively. “You'll just be helpin’ me out, I guess. I am, after all, really _dense,_ or so I heard.”

Osamu holds his hand between them, near their faces.

“Just a little,” Suna says, voice wrecked.

He’s so lame, and so happy to be, if he’s honest. He doesn't need to be cool, never wanted to be. 

“Yeah? And are ya a little into me still?” Osamu asks.

And he moves, and Suna jolts when their noses are bumping and he doesn’t know what to say; because usually he can hear himself think, he can focus on thoughts instead of his heartbeat.

“I fell more than just a little for you, Osamu.”

“Good. In that case... Don’t mind me if I catch up with ya.”

And with that Osamu lets go of Suna’s wrist to cup his jaw instead, so instead of their noses, it’s their mouths that bump together.

And with that, it doesn’t matter any longer which door closed, which one opened. It doesn’t matter what it once hid either.

The only thing that matters is the stream of endless possibilities waiting ahead.

There won’t ever be a door Osamu locks again, apart from the one leading to the kitchen, not long after their friends leave the grounds. Because the only thing he wants to keep for himself, for _themselves,_ is the stolen moments they need to make up for years. The moments they need to carve open a path Suna has always hoped they’d walk along together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for following this little adventure ♥
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Deaddrabble)  
> Find me on [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/DeaddrabbleRobin)


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